


Life, and School, and Everything

by meggtheegg (sincerelymlb)



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26091418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelymlb/pseuds/meggtheegg
Summary: The sign outside tells the world that high school graduation—Zoe's graduation—is tonight. Evan Hansen knows he's not invited. Why would he be? But something about seeing that sign makes him pull over. Makes him stop and think. So many things have changed in the past year and something about that, when it's brought to mind, is too overwhelming for him to just keep on driving.He never meant for Zoe to see him standing there.Never meant for her to reach out to him. To want to talk.But life doesn't always work out as planned, does it?
Relationships: Evan Hansen & Zoe Murphy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Life, and School, and Everything

In defiance of all logic, it was cold outside.

Never mind the fact that the heat index that morning had been somewhere up in the 90s. One of those New York weather anomalies, where a single day in June felt like the middle of August for no apparent reason. The day’s scattered rain showers had done nothing to bring the temperature down, either. All they’d managed, for the better part of the day, was to build onto the lingering humidity, leaving clothes clinging to skin and lungs gasping for clearer air.

That was the morning. You’d think some of it would carry through into the evening, but right then, where Evan Hansen stood staring up at the sunset, the breeze brought with it a sort of chill that cut straight to the bone and forced him to pull his jacket a little tighter to his body.

Maybe part of that cold could be credited to the A/C unit in Pottery Barn. The thing had always been a little too strong for his liking, but manageable with long sleeves and a lot of moving around. Today, though, to combat the scorching heat, it’d been cranked up to an eleven. No sweater or jacket or button-up would have been enough to block that out, even after taking his lunch break outside.

So maybe he was being unfair, blaming the weather. Maybe the shiver running down his spine was truly a chill he’d caught at work and failed to notice.

Or, y’know, maybe it was the fact that he was standing outside of Zoe Murphy’s graduation ceremony.

He hadn’t planned on showing up. Truth be told, until a few minutes ago, he didn’t even know it was today. Even if he had, it’d be presumptuous to assume he was welcome, there. Sure, Zoe had mentioned it briefly when they met up at the orchard, and they’d parted on good terms that day, but he still wouldn’t describe their relationship as “friendly.” Certainly not friendly enough to net an invitation. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

In the back of his mind, Alana’s voice echoed something about _acquaintances_.

How strange. Two years ago, he wouldn’t have dared _speak_ to the Murphys. Especially not Zoe. Then, in the blink of an eye and the worst of circumstances, they became a family. All while he and Zoe became…something else.

And now…

Now he was shivering outside his old high school, asking himself what right he had to even pull over.

Of course, he had no intention of going _in._ Even if he had, the ceremony had already started a while ago. Evan had been put on the closing shift that day, so by the time he got out of work, Mr. Howard was probably midway through his stock speech about _potential_ and _the fine young adults you’ve all turned out to be._ No way to tell from there, though. The football field was empty, which meant the morning’s rain had forced administrators to move the whole thing inside. Same as last year. It was only the glowing sign in front of the school that gave any indication that graduation was even _happening,_ today.

The gym was probably sweltering. Unlike work, the school’s A/C had never really done its job, especially not in there. Between the big, open space and the giant windows that let plenty of sun in but no heat out, it had a tendency to feel like a greenhouse on even the most mild of days. Or a sauna. Jared used to joke that holding Phys Ed in that room was akin to torture. Some days, it was barely a joke.

He hadn’t thought about that in so long. Those little experiences have a way of slipping past you until the moment something forces you to remember them. Moments that, at the time, felt so routine that they barely even registered. Once you think of them, though, you wonder how you could have ever forgotten.

This building held so many of those moments. So many tiny, almost insignificant memories that probably shaped Evan more than he could ever understand.

The big memories, the ones that loomed overhead like a twisted ghost of the person he used to be, were there, too. But right then, standing in the cold, looking at the glimmering sign, its little LED lights distorted by lingering rain droplets, he realized just how right his mom had been.

He’d moved on. So had the school and everyone in it. And those moments?

They felt so _small_.

Which seemed ironic, considering what was happening inside. In a matter of years, the graduates would think of this day as a little stepping stone. A tiny moment that signified a change towards much bigger and better things. But right then, they were probably squirming in their seats with excitement or anxiety, ignoring the heat to drink in every detail of that stepping stone, because it was the biggest one they’d come to, so far. The world opening itself up to them now was so unlike anything they’d faced before, regardless of what teachers may have told them. None of them, even the most prepared, could begin to imagine the road ahead. How could they?

Evan hadn’t been able to. All he could focus on that day was the nearing threat of college loans and the empty chair left between Oliver Moore and Courtney Nelson. A world beyond high school was so hard to even think about, but at the same time, it felt so fundamentally _wrong_ to be worrying about the future when faced with such a blatant reminder that he was lucky to _have_ a future to worry about.

Now, he was realizing that it was the first time he’d even set foot on the property since then. The first night he’d pulled over on his way home from work and given the place any thought.

School used to be a prison. Now…now, it was just a building. A big, ugly, brick building with so many complicated feelings attached to it that they all sort of cancelled each other out.

The car sitting across the parking lot, though…that was a whole other story. The moment his eyes landed on it, his stomach dropped, even though it shouldn’t have. Of course he’d see it here. That car that always looked so close to pristine, like it was impossible to get dirty. The car he’d been given more rides in than he could count. The car with one supposedly “glaring” flaw—a tiny dent in its left side passenger door. A dent that had always been attributed to Connor, even when he insisted that it wasn’t him, this time. A dent that Evan, in all his other preoccupations, had never noticed until Zoe told him the story. That the dent had been a family debate for years. That she secretly believed her brother but would never say so. Not to him.

That last part held so much unspoken regret. He could still hear the words echoing in his head in a quivering voice, like she were in front of him, saying them for the first time.

But she wasn’t. She was inside, in a seat between whatever two students had last names that came before and after “Murphy” in the alphabet.

Cynthia and Larry were up in the stands, probably complaining about the heat and side-stepping the elephant in the room, fanning themselves off with the program that listed the names of the seniors and the academic awards they were receiving.

Sitting in that building that they should have been in a year ago.

Where they hadn’t been.

Where the jazz band had performed, with a noticeable absence of guitar, because being there would have been too painful.

Why would tonight hurt any less?

What right did he have to be there, pondering all this, while the three of them sat inside, trying not to be miserable?

What right did he have to move on when they couldn’t?

_Shit_.

Evan took a breath and turned back to his car. By now, he’d learned to recognize the start of a spiral. They were less common, these days, but thinking too hard about all that had happened, about Connor, about _Zoe…_ it was a slippery slope. The guilt would eat at him, tearing at the little part of his mind that _hadn’t_ left high school, yet. The scared child, trapped in an adult world. Trapped in the cage of his own choices.

He sat behind the wheel and turned the key. Warm air sputtered from the heating vents and his unnamed driving-to-work playlist started back up, a quiet tune mingling with the sound of the struggling engine, like nothing had happened.

_I remember the view out the back of the car_

_Left the front door wide open_

Taking a deep breath, he gripped the wheel and tried to center himself. To focus on what was right in front of him.

_Maybe it's a sign that we shouldn't be goin'_

_I didn't realize it'd be so hard_

It had been a good day. Work was fine, if not uneventful. The weather, he could deal with. After all, if the weather was his biggest complaint, he was doing okay.

_You and me, sittin' on the trampoline_

_I think one time we fell asleep_

Now, he was going to head home. Make himself some dinner. Or maybe order something. He’d decide when he got there.

_Woke up and felt like it had been weeks_

_And now it truly has been_

That kind of simple freedom used to feel so far away. To work closely with other people. To drive himself home. To get his own food, not because his mom had guilt-tripped him into it, but because he was just…hungry.

_(Forgive yourself)_

And the Murphys? They were okay. Not perfect. But okay.

_It wasn't meant to be but it's funny how_

_Life dealt this cheat_

_To someone who could handle it so well_

A few families started trickling out the door. Made sense. This was around the time his own graduation had ended.

He’d been standing outside for so long.

But it was time to go.

To keep moving forward.

He put the car into _drive_ and pulled out, not letting himself look for familiar faces in the growing crowd.

By the time he got home, a sort of calm had washed over him and he assumed that was the end of it. He sat on the couch, turning the TV onto the Home and Garden network, which he _definitely_ never thought he’d do on purpose. His mom always watched HGTV on the rare occasion that she had downtime, and for years, he really hadn’t understood the appeal. Neither of them were particularly interested in home decor, much as his current job may suggest otherwise. When there were so many other channels to fill time with, it had baffled him that she always landed on that one. In the weeks after the Connor Project imploded, though, he’d stuck close to her and ultimately found that there was something relaxing about it. Or at least entertaining. Watching rich people debate over which multi-million dollar house had the nicest kitchen and the best spot for a “man cave,” whatever that was, somehow felt kind of riveting after a long day. Escapist, maybe. Or just ridiculous. Either way, it seemed right for a night in.

Some cheap pizza and breadsticks also felt right for a night in, he decided. Maybe they weren’t comfort food, but they were definitely “relax on the couch and watch mindless TV” food.

When he opened his phone to pull up the Domino’s app and make an order, though, his heart stopped.

_2 new messages from Zoe Murphy_

A notification that used to be so normal that his tired eyes may have just brushed over it, had she not been on his mind, tonight.

He stared at it for a while, frozen.

It couldn’t be anything good. She hadn’t texted him since the day everything fell apart. Even after they met up, she hadn’t reached out. Truth be told, he’d figured she didn’t have his number in her phone, anymore.

But there it was, clear as day.

Taking a breath, his hands trembling a little, he tapped on the notification.

> _Hey this might sound weird, but were you just at the school?_

> _I thought I saw your car pulling out_

_Oh no._

Berating himself for what felt like the biggest mistake he could have possibly made tonight, he typed out a reply and paused, rereading it without pressing _send._

> _Oh, yeah, not weird at all! I had to pull over for something_

That was nondescript enough to _technically_ not count as a lie, but a technicality didn’t really feel right. After all he’d put her through, the least he owed her was the truth. He erased the second sentence.

> _Oh, yeah, not weird at all! Sorry, that must have been weird to see. Just got to thinking about things and had to pull over. Didn’t mean to still be there when y’all got out._

_Using “weird” two sentences in a row? Really? And since when did he say_ **_y’all_ ** _?_

> _Oh, yeah, not weird at all! Sorry, that must have been kind of uncomfortable to see. Just got to thinking about things and had to pull over. Didn’t mean to still be there when everyone got out. Guess I lost track of time. Hope graduation was nice, though! (And congrats, btw!)_

He stared at the message for what felt like ages before finally deciding it was adequate and forcing himself to hit _send_.

Almost instantly, three dots showed up on the screen.

Then they stopped.

And started again.

And stopped and started four more times before:

> _I think its the night for that. Do you wanna talk about it?_

Evan didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that. His response came without any second thought, this time.

> _Oh, that’s okay. Thank you, seriously, but I don’t want to be blowing up your phone all night. You graduated! You deserve to celebrate :)_

A long pause, and he started to second-guess himself. To wonder if he’d said something wrong. When finally, a string of texts came in, one after the other:

> _Well no I mean like_

> _In person_

> _If you want!_

> _I just think I need to get out and_

> _Idk_

> _Thought maybe you might, too_

> _Obviously no pressure!_

> _I just_

> _Figured I’d put it out there_

He stared at the phone, reading the messages over and over to make sure he was understanding them correctly. Trying to piece together any underlying message. There was a desperation, there. A way of plowing through words that she only ever did under stress. Zoe, the songwriter. Zoe, the deliverer of poetic monologues and punch-in-the-gut sentences that she almost seemed to have prepared ahead of time. Sending nine hasty, choppy messages in a row.

A year ago, he’d have wondered if she was being held at gunpoint. Or like, in some sort of hostage situation.

But he recognized the marks of plain old, grade-A anxiety when he saw them. The rush to get words out. The even stronger need to instantly clarify. To overcorrect.

He replied, aiming for a positive enough tone to maybe calm her nerves a little:

> _Sure, if you don’t mind! Is there anywhere specific you want to meet? (And if you change your mind, no problem, seriously :))_

This time, her response was short and simple:

> _Our usual spot, maybe? At the park?_

Right. Ellison Park was just a short walk from the Murphys’ house. Made sense that she’d want to go there. He knew exactly which spot she was talking about, too. The bench, by the lake. Where they’d had a picnic once and talked about their lives, their families, their childhoods. Where they’d once sat after school, feeding the ducks with the leftover crusts he’d cut off his sandwich. Where she’d once played him a song on the ukulele and he learned that her singing voice was even lovelier than any solo she’d had in jazz band. Quiet and sweet and melodic in a way that conflicted so heavily with the walls she put up but matched perfectly with her soul.

Those days had made the park bearable, again. Had built positive memories that didn’t quite cancel out the bad, but that reminded him how far he’d come since then.

He hadn’t gone back since last year.

> _Sounds good. I’ll be right there_

The ride to the park, even though he’d never driven himself there, somehow felt like muscle memory. Like he didn’t even have to think about it.

He couldn’t really think about anything.

His mind should have been racing. But somehow…somehow, it wasn’t. It was just…quiet. Blank. Singularly focused, in some sort of _protect_ mode. He could worry later. Stay up all night wondering why she would text _him_ and how wrong it was that he’d intruded on her night in the first place and how this _wasn’t what moving on looked like._

But, in the moment, someone he cared about needed him. That was enough to quiet the nagging little voices in his head, if even for a short while.

After what felt like only a very brief moment, his headlights illuminated that old sign at the park entrance. The sign that he’d spent so much time meticulously re-painting two summers ago. That he’d sent a picture of to his dad, in a desperate grab for his approval.

The paint was already chipping.

Evan didn’t care.

Pulling into the parking lot, something in the back of his mind pointed out that this looked like the start of a horror movie. A single person in an empty park in the middle of the night. There was even a rising full moon, to complete the picture.

He laughed to himself at the mental image of some masked serial killer jumping out of the woods with a chainsaw. Even though that wasn’t _really_ an image he should have been laughing at. Logically.

The ridiculousness of it, though, and the fact that he may have genuinely worried about that possibility once…that was a _little_ funny.

(It was some time around the middle of the year that he realized just how much Jared had always used humor to cope with stress. Seems like some of that rubbed off on him.)

Lighting his way with the flashlight on his phone, he walked down to the lake and saw a figure on the bench. Already there, still and serene, her hair blowing a little in the breeze.

“Zoe?”

Her head turned and she looked at him, her face illuminated only by the light of the moon.

“Hey…”

Evan walked over to her, hastily turning his phone off and shoving it into his pocket.

“Hey.”

She forced a smile and patted the spot beside her on the bench. He sat down.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Her eyes were glistening, but her voice gave no clue as to what she was feeling.

That was so unusual, for her. Zoe had never exactly worn her heart on her sleeve, but she’d never been one to hold back her emotions or opinions, either. That was probably part of what had attracted Evan to her, in the first place. In a world full of people he struggled to read, Zoe was a rare exception. Even if she tended to be blunt. To speak without a filter. At least he could always count on understanding what was going on inside her head.

Right now, though, she sat in silence, staring straight forward. _Impossible_ to read.

That was more unsettling than any serial killer with a chainsaw.

“…are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” She looked down at her feet, hair falling into her face. Cynthia had clearly twisted it into some intricate updo for the ceremony, but now it fell free in awkward clusters of matted curls and styling products. “…why were you at the school? I mean, I know you said, but…why there?”

Evan had no real answer for that.

“I don’t know. I was…heading home, and I just…saw the graduation sign and got to thinking about life, and school, and…everything.”

“Guess that’s a good reason.”

“I guess.”

She looked at him expectantly. The moonlight reflected off of a tear stain, going down her cheek.

“Why, um…why did you want to meet up tonight?”

“Oh, you know. Just been thinking. About _life, and school, and everything_.” Finally a smirk. Almost a laugh. Or. More of a fast exhale, technically, but close enough.

Evan laughed a little, too. Quietly. Like a normal volume would shatter whatever sort of moment this was.

“It was…weird, today,” Zoe said. “I mean, you think about graduation, it’s supposed to be this exciting thing, but you get there and you just feel…”

“Terrified?”

“Maybe.” A pause. “…you spend so long just trying to get through each _day_ …you kind of forget to think about the future. Once you’re faced with it…”

“It feels made up. Like some…story you’ve heard before but never really believed in”

“Yeah.” Zoe nodded a little. “Especially when…”

“Yeah…”

Another pause.

“Everyone kept looking at me like…like they thought I was going to fall apart, any minute. My parents, too.” She sighed. “They’re better at pretending not to notice it.”

“You shouldn’t _have_ to pretend.”

“But I do. Even before…it was always _put on a happy face, you two. Act like nothing’s going on. Can’t let other people know you have emotions.”_ She stared out at the lake, wistfully. “They’ve gotten better about it, but my mom was so…she kept calling it _‘my night.’_ Even when she knew it wouldn’t be.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m used to it, I just…” Her eyes went back down to her feet. “I used to wonder how you did it. How you let us just be…if you two were so close…guess I should’ve figured it out. I mean, people who barely _knew_ him couldn’t let him go. If you’d really been his best friend…”

Evan’s heart sank.

“…I’m so sorry…”

She didn’t respond to that.

“…my parents…they donated his college fund to the school. To give a few hundred out of, every year. _The Connor Murphy Memorial Scholarship._ ”

Somehow, that made Evan’s heart sink even further. _Of course_ they had.

_Of course_ his name had to be plastered in the program. Had to be called out at _her_ graduation.

It was a charitable thing. Giving money to some kid who actually needed it. But the _one_ day that was supposed to be hers, and hers alone. The one day that was supposed to celebrate _Zoe_. And still, she couldn’t escape him. Not just in the unspoken pity or the quiet reminders that _he didn’t get to have this._ No, it had to be blatant. In her face.

Nothing could ever belong to her.

Evan narrowly stopped another _I’m sorry_ from coming out of his mouth.

“That’s…that wasn’t fair to you. At all.”

“Yeah, well, since when has that mattered?” She sniffled. “Again, they try. They really do, and they really _are_ getting better. I just…I don’t know how much of it’s normal and how much I deserve to feel bad about. I mean, what right do I have to be _jealous_? I’m here. I’m going off to college. Living my life.”

“Still…it’s _your_ life. It shouldn’t belong to him, y’know? You shouldn’t _both_ have to…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but she nodded.

“Thank you…for coming here. I just…I saw you, and…there’s nobody else I can talk to about this without sounding like a horrible person, so…”

“You’re not a horrible person.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Well, if _I’m_ not, then you’re _definitely_ not. I mean, jury’s still very much out on me, so that’s maybe not the best example, but…”

She smiled a little. Another tear rolled down her cheek, but she wiped it away.

“I keep thinking about what you said. With the books? How you’ve been reading them?”

“…what about it?”

“Just…that you’re doing it, I guess. That on some level, I think he…that it’s the sort of thing he’d want, y’know? Not some big, meaningless gesture with his name slapped onto it. I mean, as far as legacies go, I think he’d like to hear that someone else is actually…” She looked back out to the lake, her leg unconsciously bouncing up and down the way it always did when she was uncomfortable—usually while talking about her brother.“I mean, reading was his escape. It was like, the one thing he ever really got _into_. So. Sharing that…it’s like, getting something good out of his _life_ , y’know? Out of _him_. As a person, not just…some idea for people to be _inspired_ by.”

Evan didn’t know what to say to that. It felt like way more credit than he deserved, but on the other hand, it was also pointing out just how shallow his past attempts had really been.

_The Connor Project._

_The Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard._

Big, meaningless gestures with his name slapped onto them.

Zoe had a way of doing that. Of delivering a compliment and a harsh truth at the same time.

“…you know what else I think he’d want?” he asked quietly.

Her leg stopped bouncing.

“What?”

“For you to be happy.”

Zoe all but snorted, rolling her eyes and letting out the most sarcastic-sounding laugh he’d ever heard.

“I mean it.”

“Yeah, okay, Mr. Rogers.”

“ Hey, Mr. Rogers spoke the truth.” Evan smiled. “Maybe he left a few things out for positivity’s sake, but. Still.”

“Oh, sure. Yeah. And I’m sure one of my brother’s ultimate goals in life was to make me happy.”

“Well…maybe not, but…he didn’t _not_ care, y’know?”

Zoe went quiet for a moment, her eyes shifting back down to her feet.

“…I know.”

Evan hesitated, debating with himself over what he was about to tell her.

“…we did talk about you once. Kind of.”

“…when?”

“When he…after I wrote the…he found it on the printer, in the computer lab, and…he was trying to apologize, I think. For pushing me. He brought the letter over, signed my cast, we talked for a second. And then…then he saw your name, and…” His eyes went down to his own feet. “That was when he took it. He was…it was this sudden _shift_. From kind of trying to reach out to...just…a storm. He thought I was messing with him. That the most obvious way to do that was through _you_.”

Zoe didn’t respond and he didn’t dare look at her. So, he continued:

“Sometimes…sometimes the way we see ourselves…what we think we’re putting out there, into the world, it doesn’t actually match what we…” He sighed. “I didn’t know Connor. Not really. But he seemed pretty sure that I’d know he loved you. That you were…not a weak point, maybe, but…a point that would get to him. That any hint of… _something_ towards you would be enough to make him freak out, and that anyone who knew anything about him would realize that.”

Still, silence. A gust of wind blew by and Zoe shivered, but Evan didn’t think it’d be appropriate to offer up his jacket, right now.

Finally, in the quietest voice he’d ever heard, she asked:

“…do you think he knew that I…even though we fought, and…?”

“…I can’t say. But…if I were to guess, I…I think he must have known. Family is family. You love each other. Even if you forget to say it, sometimes. It’s just…a given, kind of.”

She sniffled again, suppressing a wave of tears in that oh-so-familiar way, choking them down because if she let them out, they’d never stop.

“…what’s awful is that sometimes, I still hate him a little. For everything that-” Her voice broke. “…I mean, we lost him years before he…” _Died. Before he died._ _That was the one word Zoe still skirted around. Still couldn’t say out loud._ “There were…hints, sometimes. Of the kid he used to be. That he was still in there, somewhere. But every time I thought we might be on the right track, he’d fall right off again. And I _hated_ him for it. Even when I knew it wasn’t really his fault. It just felt like…like the person he’d turned into had stolen my brother from me, y’know? And most of the time, he took our parents with him. And now…without him, I…I don’t think any of us really know how to be around each other. How to be a family. We used to know, and we’re figuring it out, but…”

“But it’s going to take time.”

“Yeah.”

They both went silent. The only sounds in the air were those of the leaves rustling in the wind and the spring peepers chirping in the distance.

Zoe shivered again, wrapping her arms around herself. After spending almost two hours in the gymnasium, it only made sense that she hadn’t dressed for the cold.

“…here, you must be freezing.” Evan finally slid his jacket off and held it out to her.

“Oh, no, really, I’m alright.”

“No, hey, look, I’ve got long sleeves. I can take it. Seriously.”

“…okay.”

Slowly, Evan draped the jacket over her shoulders. Zoe didn’t slide her arms into the sleeves, but she did pull it closer around herself, like a blanket.

“Thank you…”

“Of course.”

And then her head was on his shoulder. It may have only been a moment after she took the jacket, or it may have been minutes. He couldn’t say. When the two of them were together, time held no meaning. They could sit in silence forever and not even notice. Even now. Even after everything, there was a comfort between them that they didn’t share with anyone else. They had shown each other what they viewed as the worst of themselves. The parts that they tried to hide from the world. That they held close, buried in shame and fear of rejection.

Once that threshold is crossed, no separation or falling out can really take it away. Not entirely.

She leaned into him, maybe for comfort, maybe for warmth, maybe out of habit.

He let her.

“Thank you for coming,” she whispered.

“Of course.” He smiled a little. “Thank you for letting me.”

She sniffled.

“…you can cry if you need to.”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“…no, but…I really don’t need to spend the rest of the night bawling my eyes out, so…”

Evan went quiet. And they sat there.

The moon’s reflection shone off the lake like a mirror. Still. Unbroken. Unmoved, even by the night breeze. Up above, a few scattered clouds rolled in, almost unnoticeable, if not for the images of stars in the water slowly disappearing.

And Zoe?

She just stared out, her gaze set on one specific spot. Focused in that way she usually was while deep in thought. While her mind raced and the rest of the world blurred around her to make room for all that was going on inside her head.

Whatever those thoughts were, they must not have been happy ones, because it was at some point in that still silence that she _did_ start to cry.

That try as she might, she couldn’t force back any more tears.

And Evan held her.

He didn’t say a word. Neither did she.

He just offered out his arms and she gripped onto him. Hugging him close, desperate, like he’d evaporate into thin air if she ever let go, her face buried in his shoulder as waves of tears, of heaving sobs, broke through every barrier she’d tried to put up against them. That she’d been building up for so many years that all her memories of a time without them had faded beyond any sort of clear recognition.

She’d cried in front of Evan, before. But not like this. Never like this.

He had. In front of her. In the horrible aftermath of all his worst decisions, standing before what remained of her family, sputtering out useless apologies, reduced to a broken shell of regret and terror and guilt. Watching each of their hearts break in real time as they processed just what he had done.

Zoe had no reason to forgive him. No reason to even acknowledge his existence.

But somehow…somehow, here they were. Clutching onto each other like they were the last two people on Earth. Like nothing else and no one else existed but them, and this moment. Like nothing had happened to tear them apart, at all.

His jacket slid off her shoulders and he held her closer. She gripped onto his shirt.

Evan’s mom once said something about comforting people. That you should never be the first one to break a hug, because you don’t know how much the other person may need it.

So he didn’t. Didn’t move. Didn’t even shift, for fear of implying he was ready to pull away.

And in time, she calmed. Her breathing slowed. The tears stopped. And she pulled back.

Sniffling and wiping her eyes on her sleeve, she took a shaky breath and looked up at him.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“No. Hey. Don’t be sorry, okay?” He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Something he’d picked up from Larry, probably, because that definitely wasn’t the sort of move Heidi would jump to. The Murphys had offered him so much comfort. So much care. They all deserved better than this. Better than what they were going through. Better than crying to him on a park bench. “You can’t bottle these things up. They’ve gotta come out, somehow.”

She sniffled again and smiled a little, weakly. The tired look in her eyes was so familiar. That kind of wrung-out exhaustion that hits so suddenly after any burst of overwhelming emotion.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head.

“I think I just…need to breathe for a little.”

“That’s totally fine.”

Gently, he lifted the jacket off the bench and wrapped it around her again. Her head went back on his shoulder.

More clouds rolled in, but Evan didn’t notice them, even as the moonlight dimmed and the chill in the air became just a little more piercing.

“…I miss him.”

“I know you do.”

“…am I ever…I don’t know…” She sighed. The wind blew her hair into her face and she brushed it aside. “Is life ever gonna feel _normal_?”

“I think so. It always does, at least for a little while. Little moments. I mean, there’s always gonna be _something_ …either to look forward to or to dread or…to just _get through_ without any thought. It’s…kind of a rollercoaster, I guess, for lack of a better phrase, but…things _do_ get better. Find themselves. You just have to fall into a new rhythm, y’know? It’s never _simple_ , but…someday, you’ll find yourself living life, going through the motions. Maybe you’ll drive by the school, or the orchard, or _here_ , and…it’ll just hit you that you’ve been _doing_ it. Getting by. Finding the good. The pain never really goes away, but…it changes. Becomes more manageable.”

She nodded a little.

The moon’s half-hidden reflection rippled with a quiet _plop_. Zoe sat up.

Evan opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but then a cold droplet hit his cheek.

Across the lake, in the woods, the unmistakable thrumming of raindrops against leaves filled the air.

“Oh, shit.”

Only made sense. The morning’s showers had come with little warning. But they were supposed to be done with, by now.

The surface of the water, so still just moments ago, grew chaotic, with dimples and splashes and ripples breaking across the lake, the heaviest of the rain moving visibly closer. A clear, creeping line, approaching them at breakneck pace.

They stood, almost in unison, Zoe clutching onto the jacket to keep it from sliding off her shoulders a second time.

_Shelter. They needed to find shelter._

“Come on, my car!” Evan gestured forward, his mind shifting immediately out of _comfort_ mode and into _we’ve got to get out of here_ mode.

Zoe nodded and they raced for the parking lot.

A few more droplets came down, leaving dots in the dirt around their feet and on the fabric of Evan’s shirt. For a moment, it seemed like they’d be able to outrun the worst of the storm, if they were fast enough. To stay in a slight drizzle and make it to the parking lot before it got bad. But the clouds moved in on them, faster and faster. Devolving into a downpour.

A severe downpour.

The kind of downpour where you can barely see your own hand in front of your face.

Zoe picked up the pace, letting out the involuntary half-laugh-half-scream that one does while booking it through a rainstorm. She held Evan’s jacket up above her head, but any effort to stay dry was futile, at that point.

They made it into the car and slammed the doors shut, rain pounding on the windshield and water dripping from clothes and hair and skin. Completely soaked through, as if they’d just jumped into the lake.

And they laughed.

Hysterical, unrestrained, unhampered by the heavy emotions of the night.

Just cracking up, dripping wet, in the front of Evan’s car.

“That…that was crazy!” Zoe panted.

_“A little bit!”_

_“Oh my gosh…”_ She leaned her head back against the seat, another bout of laughter bursting out. “That was… _literally_ out of nowhere.”

“You can see why they had graduation inside.”

_“Oh, yeah!”_

The laughter kept coming, wracking her body in the way that tears had just minutes ago.

“ _Whew_ …That’s _one_ way to wake you up…”

“That’ll do it.”

The rain kept pouring down and they laughed until their breathing had slowed and their heart rates had returned to normal.

Zoe looked to him, drenched hair clinging awkwardly to her face.

“Thank you…”

He smiled softly.

“Don’t mention it.”

She relaxed into the seat, a little, letting out a breath, her eyes drifting shut. The smile didn’t leave her face.

“This one of the moments you were talking about?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Her eyes opened again and drifted back to meet his.

And they sat there. Again, in silence, only broken by the rain battering the roof of the car and the quiet rumbling of thunder in the distance.

“You know, I almost went for a walk, tonight.”

“That would’ve been an adventure.”

_“A little bit._ ” She turned and looked forwards, out the windshield.

“…guess I ought to get you home, huh?”

A pause. Her smile faded just enough to be noticeable.

“…guess you probably should.”

He frowned, studying her face.

“Unless…um…well, I was gonna order some terrible pizza. Watch a little mindless TV. If you want…”

She kept staring out at the rain, and he almost retracted the invitation. Almost apologized for making the ridiculous assumption that she’d ever be wiling to go back to his house. But then…

“…that sounds nice, actually.”

Their eyes met again, and Evan smiled.

“If you _really_ want to get crazy, I could whip up some of my mom’s famous hot chocolate.”

“How famous are we talking?”

“Well, it’s Swiss Miss, so pretty well known, I’d say.”

She laughed again.

“Throw a little whipped cream on top, and we’ve got a deal.”

“Okay, now _that’s_ just asking too much.”

“Excuse me, sir, it’s my graduation day, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Alright, _fine_ , I _suppose_ you qualify for the VIP treatment. This time.”

“I won’t get too used to it.” She smirked. “Better call my parents. Let them know I’m…”

“Yeah, yeah, no. Don’t want them to…are they going to be okay with…?”

“Me spending the night with a friend? Yeah.” She gave him a meaningful look. “No need to specify, right?”

“Right.” He paused. “And…are _you_ okay with…after everything that happened?”

“…let’s pretend it didn’t. Just for tonight.”

“…okay. Yeah.” Evan nodded.

Just for tonight.


End file.
